Since my last post, I have split the main hive in my backyard (the one featured in the youtube video). That means, in this case, that I took three supers and created a new hive with a new bottom board and telescopic cover. The remaining two supers were used to form the other hive, with another new super thrown in the mix. This was done on Saturday without incident. I set the two hives up so that their entrances faced each other, and the bees would be forced to choose between the two hives and there might be an even split. That was the idea. But the vast majority of brood was in one hive (left side in the picture), and the other had hardly any brood (right side). All the bees were going to the hive with the brood (the one I suspect the queen is living in). So then I had a largely honey-bound hive with almost no brood, and very few bees. Not good.
I was planning to switch the locations of the two hives, so that the bees might move into the weak hive. I was going to do that when the new queens arrived this week. But my father suggested that I do that as soon as possible and not wait. So I did it early this morning. It was very cloudy and humid–weather that the bees hate. Plus being early in the morning, most of the field workers were still in the hive. I moved the strong hive over about 15 feet, and moved the weak hive to the prior location of the strong hive. The bees, of course, were confused and upset. And then I observed something I wasn’t expecting–all out warfare between the bees. I started to see bees in twos and threes in full-out combat attacking each other. Either the bees from the strong hive were sensing that the bees in the weak hive were impostors or vice versa, or both. It was very interesting to see. Down on the ground I saw a little nano dust-devil, I couldn’t make out anything other than a moving gray blur on the ground. And then when their wings stopped, I could tell that they were two bees latched onto each other, spinning and vibrating in mortal combat.
It could be that the bees from the strong hive ended up killing all the bees in the weak hive. I doubt this happened, but if it did, it would matter little because the population of the weak hive was so small.
Fascinating that these bees, in just three days, with the exact same genetics and no new queen, living right next to each other, now recognized each other as “other.” And enemy. A weak beehive can be quickly robbed by a stronger hive, all the honey taken, and the weak hive left to starve and die. It is a matter of life and death for the colony to protect its resources. Three days ago they were united. This morning, sororicide. How quickly things can change.
As the beekeeper, I play God. I house them, I check on them, I move them, I may feed them at times, I kill them. For both my benefit and their benefit. When I do well, they do well. When they do well, I do well. I’m not a perfect god. I make mistakes, but I’m well-intentioned. Like some of the flawed Greek and Roman gods on Mount Olympus, I imagine. Sometimes I am a neglectful beekeeper, long absent. After a long winter only the memory of the oldest bees keep them from deism, I suppose. My reason to intervene was to prepare for the arrival of the queens this week. Four queens, with unknown fate. Will I be able to find and kill the queens that live now? If not, then these newly arrived queens will die. They will not be accepted by the hives, and will kill them as they emerge from their cages. If I do find and kill the old queens, then a new reign will start, with an unknown future. These are survivor bees who have thrived in uncertain times. For both bee and man. Gods and queens.
This evening I looked at the hives again. No fighting. Just bees coming and going. What was done is done. There were winners and losers, but no one is keeping count. A little drama for a little world.
First, when you put the queen cage in a hive, the queen is protected by the screen, so the workers cannot sting her (ball her) and kill her if they have an inclination to do so. Some beekeepers will introduce a queen directly into a hive without the cage and candy plug, and it can be successful, but some times it is not.
Second, waiting until the day you make the split to requeen is not necessarily a bad idea either, because it confuses and disrupts things a bit, and maybe makes it easier for the bees to adjust to the new queen more quickly, so it might not be a bad thing to do it that way.
Third thought, but there is also the thought that if you do it a few days early and give the bees a chance to adjust to the change and calm down, it can make it easier on the beekeeper to be able to put in the queen cage with less trouble and less likelihood of the bees being upset and trying to attack the queen.
They all have their points.
Fourth thought: It may not matter either way and your chances of success may be the same no matter what you try. Who knows. You’ll know/learn from experiencing the results of what you try. The genetics of different groups of bees may also affect the outcome and one method may work better for some bees than for others. Say a prayer and do what you think is best then check the outcome. The bees will “tell you” whether or not you did good.
When searching for a queen bee, you look for something that is “different,” and that makes it easier. It takes some time and patience and usually can just kind of “jump out” at you if you’re lucky. Your heart needs to be calm. I practice by looking for four leaf clovers in every clover patch I see. I’ve found lots of them. Do you remember the Sesame Street song, “One of these things doesn’t look like the others?”